Memory Chain
by Tasogare-Taichou
Summary: YoruichixUrahara. What is Yoruichi's favourite memory? Orihime wants to know. Set at the beginning of the Soul Society arc.


Title: Memory-chain  
Fandom: Bleach  
Characters: Yoruichi and Orihime  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine  
Summary: Set during the beginning of SS arc, Inoue wants to know what Yoruichi's favourite memory is.

"Yoruichi-san, what's your favourite memory?"

Gold eyes shifted to regard the long-haired girl where she was standing a few feet away, hands clasped behind her waist, that same soft smile on her caring features. Her favourite memory? Well that was a pretty vague question. Yawning, the svelt feline stretched, paws reaching out in front of her as claws curled against the wood. Nothing like a good stretch, really. Shaking her head, she pulled herself up to study the girl she was supposed to be training.

"That's a fairly vague question, Inoue. I have a lot of memories to choose from. You'd get a better answer if you narrowed it down a bit."

The girl's grey eyes blinked for a moment, as though she'd never really stopped to think about how old her new teacher was, how there could potentially be several lifetimes' worth of memories to sift and file through. Her gaze flickered around the room, from where Chad was training on his own, to the small tray of snacks sitting on the sidebar, to the wind-chime that swung softly in the open window, before sweeping back to once again rest on the black cat seated in front of her. With a smile, Orihime cocked her head to the side.

"Well then, how about your favourite memory of Urahara-san? You two are good friends, right? So you must have a lot of good memories to pick from."

If her response had surprised Yoruichi, she didn't let it show. That was perhaps by virtue of the fact that cats are not in possession of eyebrows, which negated anything along the lines of said eyebrows climbing up into a hairline that she didn't currently posses. With a slight cough and another yawn, she settled back down onto the floor with a shrug.

"Indeed we do."

Her favourite memory of Kisuke? That... was a more difficult question than she was certain the girl realized. And of course, because what did any of them know? Next to nothing. They didn't know of the past that she and Kisuke had shared, of the present they _now_ shared -- at least not most of it -- and it was indeed so very hard to put a label onto so many years of memories.

Really, the girl hadn't made it any easier to answer the question, she'd just made it harder.

Sighing slightly to herself, Yoruichi let lantern-gaze wander to the window, staring off into space that her eyes weren't seeing. They were, instead, reliving. Retracing over a lifetime of emotions and memories and occurences. It had been a long time, since anyone had asked her anything like this, since she'd really had to stop and _think_ about just what it was about Kisuke that she liked the most.

Their road had been a difficult one, and most certainly not a smooth ride. But they'd traveled it together. From the days when she'd been a noble's daughter escaping from the confines of her position to play flash-tag with a vagrant from Rukongai to the first time he'd come racing into her room to show off the brand new haori they'd just bestowed upon him.

She could remember the first time they'd played together, a meeting of children -- herself spoiled and haughty in the way that all young nobles were until they learned better, and he the same jovial, fun-loving and laid-back person he still was to this day. He'd interrupted her game, and when she had scornfully declared that he couldn't play with her, he'd proceeded to turn the tables and entice her into _his_ play. And that had been the beginnings of everything.

He was the one who'd made her change, made her decide to give free reign to that wild and rebellious spirit she'd been taught was a flaw, to let it wing out and carry her with it, bringing him along for the ride. It had been Kisuke who had first actually asked her why she bothered with the rules in the first place, because that made life so much less enjoyable. And she'd taken his words to heart and it had changed her forever. Soon it had been she who was tearing down the halls of the academy, his hand firmly grasped in her own as he -- halfheartedly, she knew he was just as carefree as she was -- protested that they were going to get in trouble.

Races along the wall, seeing who could best the other, who could push each other farther, further towards that faraway limit that always loomed just out of reach. A challenge, a constant fight for dominance and victory that had stretched even further, to that one day she'd never forget, when he'd touched her for the first time with anything beyond simple friendship and she'd answered with an equal fire. And that flame had been stoked through the years, nights of passion and touching followed by mornings of just lounging languidly in the afterglow before it was back again to the daily grind.

His promotion, the look on his face when he'd come -- practically skipping, though he'd denied it -- into her office, brandishing the white haori on his shoulders, so proud and wide-eyed with emotion over his accomplishment. She'd treated them both to drinks that night, in the secret place they'd made when they were younger, and even though they couldn't see the night sky from underground, she had been certain the stars were shining on them.

Days had faded, turned darker and harsher as he drew away from her, caught up in something far beyond her comprehension and her understanding, past her ability to support him and help him. Something so dark and seemingly innocuous in it's hidden sinister nature that it had been too late to stop, too late to turn back until it burned them both. It was raining the night that he'd finally told her, when she'd yelled and berated and eventually broken down those walls that hid the truth. And her face had turned pale beneath it's dark complexion as her head told her what her heart hadn't wanted to accept. There was a choice to be made, and it was a hard one at that.

But even then, the choice hadn't seemed to hard. She'd chosen him, as she'd always perhaps known she would have, and that day passed through her mind in a blur of words and gestures, heated glances and furtive motions until they'd managed to escape those she knew would follow, those who wouldn't understand. Exiled, on the run. Hiding every day from those they'd once called friend. If they hadn't already shared so much, it might have driven them apart. And in a way, maybe it had, giving rise and strength to her capricious nature, sending her on longer and longer voyages through this world on her own, wandering as if in search for something she'd never found.

And yet she always came back to him, always found her way back to the safety and comfort that she knew she could find with Kisuke. That was something, it seemed, that would never change through the years. After all, they'd shared so much. Which was likely why a simple question as to what was the most cherished memory was so hard to answer.

His smile? That one time they'd smashed a hole in the wall and vanished for 3 days to avoid getting in trouble -- which hadn't worked? The day they'd finally realized and accepted -- though never verbally acknowledged -- how deep their bond really ran? Or was it something else, something more entirely. Raising a paw to scratch one pointed ear, she couldn't help but smile a bit as the answer simply slid into her brain in it's usual liquid form. There were really too many to choose from, but perhaps the time she cherished the most -- though she wouldn't tell Kisuke, seeing as how he'd have teased her for being a closet sap -- was the time they simply spent _together_, whether with her head pillowed on his shoulder in the mornings, sharing tea and milk by the fire in the evenings, or just those times where he would lay sprawled across the floor on his stomach, softly touching noses with her feline form, all the cares of the world thrown asunder.

"Yoruichi-san?"

She was broken from her reverie by the girl's voice as it cut through the memories, reminding her that this wasn't then, and right now she wasn't sharing time with Kisuke. No, right now she was doing him a favour and trying to teach two young Ryouka children how to access powers they'd never even known they had. So that they could save someone dear to them. Drawing herself up, she cleared her throat and shook her head, fixing the girl with a level gaze.

"There isn't time for that now, Inoue. Stop worrying about me and concentrate if you want to save Kuchiki Rukia."

Seemingly startled, the girl's eyes widened for a moment before the surprise replaced itself with determination as chin nodded slightly. There, that was the look she'd been waiting for, the look that reminded her of so many things. Watching as Orihime turned back to her training, Yoruichi could feel a smile curl her lips, whiskers pricking. One day they'd know. At least... some of it. And then, maybe the girl would understand the answer she would give.


End file.
